Six two-word prompt drabbles
by Utterby
Summary: Originally posted on LJ, these are inspired by the prompts offered as part of Mxrolkr's two-word prompt challenge. User-names and their respective prompts are shown at the top of each drabble. Thank you for the inspiration, prompters.


**Theruinedcastle – Blank Canvas **

The brush ribboned a tentative image of peach skin over the canvas, flowing and ebbing through arcs of hips and ribs belonging to the naked women not six Prada footsteps away.

The artist circled fingertips above a collection of paintbrushes, selecting her instrument with which to begin outlining the mane of chocolate that framed the subject's face, settling at her breast.

The artist was at a disadvantage however; she lifted her gaze to the model and both sets of eyes locked like lovers lips, and so she did not observe the shadow beneath the model's chin, the spatter of freckles at the left hipbone, skin she had craved for three years.

Miranda's canvas remained scarcely touched, but she considered it a small compromise for the softly dealt promise that twitched at the model's lips.

A promise of hot Starbucks. A promise of a blank canvas with which to create a brand new friendship.

* * *

**Niktiera – Cold Front**

She knew I was staring. I knew she knew by the tilt of her head and dip of her hip.

Runway staff stared balefully at the rack of fur coats that we didn't dare to wear. We had jiggled and shivered when Miranda wasn't looking, and tensed our muscles when she was.

And I had been summoned into her office.

"Is there a reason we appear to have re-located to the South-Pole?"

"Heating's broken. The engineer is on his way Miranda," I replied not looking her in the eye.

"Why we are incapable of achieving a room-temperature? Does this not look like a room to you?"

My fingers twitched. Nerves and lack of circulation I imagine. She noticed, and jutted her chest. "No. I mean… yes. Miranda."

"Well then. Unless our incompetent heating system decides to come out of its strop, I suppose you may as well to put your twitchy fingers to use. After-all, my nipples are not going to get any calmer if you insist on simply staring at them."

Then I looked her in the eye, finding her cheeks pink despite the cold. "What?"

"Come keep me warm."

* * *

**Delilahmoon - Heart tattoo**

"Lights off," Miranda huffed beneath a young body.

"Lights on," the body replied, arm reaching to flick the bedside lamp on again.

Miranda clamped both hands over the girl's ears. "No."

The movements of sex stilled with the silence.

"Lights off," Miranda tightened her grip but softened her voice.

The girl dipped her head, Miranda jolted it back, but not before the girl saw.

The young mouth opened. Miranda replied only by turning her head to the side.

Above her, the girl whispered, "you have a tattoo. A heart tattoo."

"Stop. Just stop right…" A heart tattoo on her right breast. Small, only an outline, unfilled. Beneath, a name inked in a moment of frivolity.

"Who is Andrea?"

* * *

**Minerva_ed – Golden girls**

"…and arrange a good trim for my golden curls before this weekend. I expect them to dazzle."

"Your…"

"That's all."

"Your outfit is at the Hamptons, Stephen agreed to wear the Canali tie this evening and…ah…"

"And my girls?"

"…what?"

"My girls. Honestly Andrea I do not understand why you look so perplexed. Did you arrange a trim for the twins?"

"A…A trim?"

"For their beautiful hair. A trim Andrea, honestly I do not have the time."

"Girls."

"Yes. My golden girls."

"Um…"

* * *

**Ioaz - Confession to**

"Miranda have you seen my cerulean sweater?"

"No." Miranda watched her girlfriend's ass bob about, her head stuck in their drawer of keepsake clothing.

"It was here just the other day I swear."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Miranda picked at a cuticle.

Andrea stood, stalked towards Miranda. "Miranda. What did you do."

"Nothing." She stretched her neck.

"Mira…" Andrea stood so close their noses were almost touching.

"I have a confession to make."

"You used it to get off again, didn't you?"

"It's in the wash as we speak."

* * *

**Mxrolkr - Sky ablaze**

They held hands for the first time. Andrea feared it would also be the last.

The whole sky had turned to colours so unnatural and vivd they could have been at the very core of a sunset. Burnt umber, sunflower yellow, rusty copper, gun grey, all slicing and congealing across the blue.

And then there was the heat, that smarting pain against nostrils on every inhale, the heat of a thousand suns worsening every time.

But then, the acrid smell at the throat. The smell of a fire so wild no sea could ever restrain. A fire unexplained but undeniable, there is was, across the city, heading right for them.

And so, they stood amongst millions on some street in New York, waiting for the end of their lives.

Still, if it wasn't for their speeding deaths, they would not be touching. It was a fair exchange.


End file.
